Category: Daily

First off? I love each and every one of you for your words of wisdom and concern regarding my crazy headache drama. Without going into too much detail (Just wait a few paragraphs. You know how I am), I believe I am on the mend. So, it now appears that we have a bit of catching up to do related to things that don’t really impact your life at all. But isn’t that how it is when you find yourself sitting across the table from someone? Let’s pretend you and I are enjoying some coffee, and it’s my turn to talk. (I always let you go first, because I’m sort of a Girl Scout like that.) I’ll even put my words in quotation marks so it really seems like I’m using my larynx! Don’t we have fun?

“Yep. As much as I think I would like to hang out with Nate Berkus for a few minutes, I really don’t believe his show is going to last. It’s all over the place and he’s giving pillows away to a sad lady and then all of a sudden a little bouncy girl is featured who designs semi-hoochie clothes, and then we’re talking about dating, and married couples who put sex at the bottom of their totem pole, and some lady keeps a litter box in her bedroom, and really. So much shifting of the focus, and no vintage ribbon to tie it all together.”

“Jeff and I celebrated nine years of marriage on Wednesday by taking Harper to karate, picking Meredith up from scouts, and taking both kids to church choir. We shut the night down with French silk pie, which really isn’t a bad way to shut things down. Jeff presented me with nine roses. I presented him with The Instructions. This evening may find us indulging in a bit of sushification.”

“I just finished my part of a smooth sailing freelance project, and I’m now taking time off while I adjust to my new migraine prevention pills. I’m feeling a few hours of relief each day from the headache, but I’m replacing the pain with a constant haze that, according to my doctor, should last no longer than six weeks. I’m high. When I reach for something, my hand arrives a split second after I think it should. Yesterday, after my neighbor and I discovered that we were both craving Indian food, I found myself filling my plate at Gokul’s buffet. When my plate was full, I went and sat down at a different table from where we had been seated just a few minutes before. Excuse me while I kiss the sky, Guster.”

“Last night we went to the middle school for a family game night, and for the first time ever, Harper kicked my butt at checkers. (This may or may not have anything to do with the anti-seizure meds. Whee!) After each move, she took breaks to work on the book she’s writing about brownies. I would document all of this in her baby book, but why start now?”

“An older bow-tied gentleman at church once noticed that I tend to put the sugar in the cup before pouring in the coffee. He nodded his head and said, ‘Ah! You’re a Pre-Sugarian!’ That will stick with me for the rest of my life.”

“You look so pretty slash handsome today. Please pass the Doritos.”
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My roommate once told me I was Very Wide. Follow this link to read the story, and you could win $150! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Please know that this is all about girl innards and headaches. If you’re not interested, may I suggest you go over here instead? Really.

1. On Sunday, September 26th, I was hit with a migraine, so I did what I always do—I took a Maxalt. This normally kills it within a few hours, but for some reason, on September 26, the Maxalt didn’t even begin to touch the migraine.

2. On Monday, September 27th, I began to cycle, which has absolutely nothing to do with putting on shiny shorts and a helmet. Interestingly enough (it’s really not interesting at all), that was my first cycle since being taken off my BCP nearly a month ago. (I’ve been on the pill for nearly 20 years, and we have breast cancer in the family which puts a capital R on my risky. My doctor and I have been throwing around other options for several months now, and I’ve balked at every one. In September, she played hard ball (as she should have) by not renewing my prescription.)

3. On Tuesday, September 28th, I took another Maxalt. No relief. Terrible headache.

4. By Wednesday, October 6th, I had taken three Maxalt and two of my other migraine pills. (Not all at once, Silly. Spread out over eleven days!) Still paining. SO, I went to see the nurse practitioner at the headache center. She gave me a Toradol shot, which basically made me feel really high and nasty. It did nothing for the headache. She also told me to take anti-seizure drugs that have not been approved by the FDA for migraine prevention, but supposedly work for migraine prevention. (I didn’t take them. I’m weird about just throwing crap at my head—especially if that crap comes with a long list of side effects.)

NOTE: I’ve had the migraines where I end up in bed crying with blankets pulled over my head. This (Thank God) is not one of those. It’s just a constant pain that radiates from my shoulders up to my right eye and sometimes my left eye (sometimes both) and it affects my concentration, and it makes my stomach feel nasty and I feel all hazy and yeesh.

5. On Thursday, October 7th, I attended the most heart-wrenching event I’ve attended in many years. Out of respect for everyone involved, I won’t go into any details. BUT, I will say this: on the drive home my headache was so unbearable that I actually called my gynocologist and BEGGED her to put me back on the pill so that I could get some relief. She didn’t want to do it, but she did it.

6. Monday. October 11th. Now back on the pill for five days. Still no relief.

7. On Tuesday, October 12th, I spoke on the phone with my migraine doctor. She promised that we would get rid of this thing. She told me to go off of the BCP. No more BCP. EVER. She prescribed a steroid that should take care of this headache. She told me to start taking the anti-seizure drug (Zonisamide) that the nurse practitioner had given me the week before.

8. Sunday. October 17th. The headache is now 21 days old, I’ve taken 21 steroids, and am now on anti-seizure drugs. The inside of my head feels hot, my entire body feels tingly (in a not so good way), and I’m feeling like I’m not very sharp (I’m making silly mistakes, forgetting things, etc.). I’m able to keep appointments (mostly), I’m still able to get work done, but I’m just not Me. (I didn’t make it to church this morning because the thought of up and down and sing and up and down and smile and so forth did me in. I was all dressed and ready to go, but then I simply Could Not Do It.)

So, Gggggrrrrrrrrr. I’m now The Girl With the Neverending Headache. (Call Limahl. I’ve got a remake idea for him.) And she’s not interesting or funny. She just sort of sits around in a robe eating apples and looking like your sick old Aunt Marie. Plan for tomorrow: Call the Headache Clinic again. (They’re really very good. I’m actually knitting a pair of Nemesis socks for my doctor, because when/if this headache is conquered, she deserves a prize.)

I offer my apologies to you. Fluid Pudding is not normally a place for such melancholic melon complaints. I’ll probably privatize this number in the next day or so. (Mainly because I’m scheduled to be happy on here tomorrow morning.) Tell me a joke. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

On Friday evening the temperature dropped and the four of us found ourselves sitting around in the family room with the windows open and the television off. Perfect night. Then, all of a sudden: “I SAID HELLO, MARY LOU! GOODBYE HEART! SWEET MARY LOU I’M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!”

Jeff: Girls, do you hear that? The church up the street is having their barbershop quartet sing-off tonight!

Me: Wow! It sounds like they have a new sound system! Should we walk up and watch? There might be snowcones!

Meredith and Harper: NO!

So, we continued to sit and listen from our family room, and the music was a bit loud, yet sort of lovely, and the air was crisp, and all was well. (Five commas!) And then two hours passed, and it was bedtime for the girls, and the whole sing-off thing was quickly losing its charm.

“YOU MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL BABY! YOU MUST HAVE BEEN A WONDERFUL CHILD!!!”

“DOWN BY THE OLD MILL STREAM!!! WHERE I FIRST MET YOU!!! WITH YOUR EYES OF BLUE!!! DRESSED IN GINGHAM, TOO!!!!”

Me: Every time one of the songs comes to an end, I find myself praying that the show is over.

Jeff: I’m starting to wonder if the show will EVER be over.

Meredith: I changed my mind. Let’s go see the singers.

Jeff and Me: No.

Another hour passes.

“YOU HOLD HER HAND, AND SHE HOLDS YOURS AND THAT’S A VERY GOOD SIGN!!! THAT SHE’S YOUR TOOTSIE-WOOTSIE IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME!!!”

Me: I hate barbershop quartets. HATE them.

“GOODBYE MY CONEY ISLE! GOODBYE MY CONEY ISLE! GOODBYE MY CONEY ISLAND BABE!!!”

Me: I’m going to kill someone. If this doesn’t end soon, I swear I’m calling the police.

Ah, but it did end. And thank God for that, because I was starting to itch in strange places, which I believe indicates the onset of An Episode. I’m not sure who won, but I believe it was the gang who belted out Down by the Riverside. Now that we’re more than 48 hours past the trauma, I feel good admitting that they SHOULD have won. Two words: Harmonized Glissandi. (I’m all about glissandi lately—both the word and the effect. This song is getting a lot of play in my car.) ((By the way, I’m totally going to the barbershop quartet sing-off next year. And I’m taking you with me.))

On Saturday afternoon, we went to the school’s Fall Festival, where plates were broken, faces were painted, and severely awkward conversations were held (because that’s what I tend to do).

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You are cordially invited to admire my senior photo from high school and take a chance at winning $150!

Please read about my extraordinary family, and follow the links to win all sorts of prizes! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

As I pulled up the Add New Post screen, my milkman delivered the goods, meaning my refrigerator now contains fresh milk, along with hummus, pesto, Schlafly Pumpkin Ale, kosher baby dills, a sourdough bread starter, leftover spaghetti and meatballs, and a ton of condiments. Today is Respect for the Aged Day in Japan, so I’m going to hug my cat (who is something like 85 years old if I’m doing the math correctly), and dip a pickle in hummus. Let’s hope it sticks. The hummus to the pickle, that is.

Shall we talk about the Schlafly Pumpkin Ale? Every year our neighbors host a block party, and every year Jeff prepares for the party by heading to the store and purchasing a crazy number of bratwurst, buns, and a six-pack of some sort of seasonal beer. Most often, I drink one or two of the beers, and then I’m good for the next six months. A few years ago he purchased some sort of autumnal Budweiser, and it was very okay. Last year saw me holding a raspberry something or other, and I’m not sure I even finished the first one. The Schlafly Pumpkin Ale? Oh my. I drank only one, but I’ve been thinking fondly of it ever since. (I once had a Schlafly Pumpkin Ale Ice Cream Float, and it still goes down as one of the best desserts I’ve ever had.) I don’t really consider myself to be much of a swiller, but when beer tastes like pumpkin pie, I’m in.

Although I definitely don’t need any more sock yarn, I purchased some sock yarn a few weeks back. AND, if you knit at the correct gauge, ghosts begin to form. The last thing I want to do is become the lady who has a pair of socks for every holiday (Respect for the Aged Day!), but I really couldn’t pass this up.

ETA: Oh! I just sent a bulk e-mail to those who wanted the owl cozy pattern. Please let me know if you wanted it but didn’t get it. Thanks!

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You are cordially invited to admire my senior photo from high school and take a chance at winning $150!

Please read about my extraordinary family, and follow the links to win all sorts of prizes! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>